it's rainy night in 1940's with soft oldies playing in another room ( Rainfall Front yard ambience)

Transcript

Our rain hits the glass like a whispered name. Our pages curling, never the same. Our runs wild like rivers on my skin. The storm outside it matches the one within. Rainrop falls like words you left behind. Every light is storm. Every fl. I read your poem, your voice in the rain. Every verse, the whisper, every rhyme or pain. The clouds carry secre... Read More